


What Do You Want, Sammy?

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Desperation, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Give me one or both brothers tied up, all red faced and squirming, face shoved into the pillows while being teased relentlessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do You Want, Sammy?

Sam whines into the sheets as Dean’s thumb grazes over his perineum, rocking back seeking more contact but Dean’s touch is already gone. As soon as Sam settles, a finger traces down the underside of his cock briefly. 

“You’re so hard, Sammy,” Dean says softly. “Dripping onto the sheets. Wish you could see how you look, with your pretty ass in the air, cock hanging between your legs. All trussed up, just for me.”  

The words are followed by the slow drag of nails up the tender insides of Sam’s thighs, pressure just right to leave him trembling as a low moan wends it’s way from this throat. He’d blush more, if he thought he could, at being reminded of the way he must look. Bent over, spread open, arms tied behind his back - Sam knows he looks ready to fuck, an eager hole waiting to be filled. He clenches a little at the thought, hyper aware of how wet and stretched he is already from the slow, torturous prep of Dean’s fingers, and Dean huffs a laugh. 

“Yeah, you know, don’t you. What you look like. Can see the way this little hole of yours is just waiting for more. Do you feel empty, Sam?” A light press of the tip of a thick digit and Sam jerks, writhing in frustration when it fails to penetrate. 

“Tell me what you want, little brother.” 

“Need,” Sam pants. “Need you to touch me, need you to fuck me, Dean  _please_.”

“You sure? That’s all you want?” Dean’s tone is playfully curious and Sam groans in frustration. 

“Yes, just - just fuck me, touch me, I need - need more, fuck.”

A hand settles on his back then, the first real firm touch Dean’s granted him since they started and Sam shivers at how good it feels to his over-sensitized skin. The tip of Dean’s cock just kisses his hole, but Sam can’t rock back onto it with the weight of Dean’s hand pressing him down. 

“Breathe, Sammy,” is the only warning he gets, and Sam sucks in a breath just before Dean thrusts all the way in on one smooth, steady stroke. Sam cries out, pressing his face into the mattress as pleasure sparks almost agonizingly ups his spine as he’s finally, finally getting more than brief and teasing touches. 

There’s no real attempt at muffling the sounds that get punched out as Dean fucks him hard and quick. Sam can feel the prick of tears in his eyes at the almost-too-much pleasure, and he pushes back against his brother with a desperate sob. He couldn’t bear it if Dean were to stop now, is sure he’d go crazy without the steady pounding thrusts of his brother’s cock or the bruising grip of Dean’s hands on his hips. 

Dean presses closer, bending so he can speak into Sam’s ear. “You’re a good little cockslut, huh Sammy. Learned so well, cause all you wanted was to be fucked. Didn’t even beg to come.” Sam has a split second to thing that Dean isn’t going to let him, that he’s going to have to wait when he’s not sure he  _can-_

\- and Dean’s hand is stroking his cock, ratcheting the pleasure-plain into something blinding. Sam can’t hold back the scream as he comes, the orgasm wracking his body so thoroughly he barely registers Dean’s last, deep thrust. All he can do is ride it out until he sinks slackly onto the bed. 

Sam’s panting as Dean frees his wrists, sliding out carefully so he can roll Sam onto his side. Gentle hands stretch his limbs out, massaging from his shoulder’s down to his wrists to soothe the stiffness from being bound. Dean tugs the dirty top sheet out form under Sam, balling it up and tossing it toward the hamper before clambering into bed. Nuzzling close, Sam sighs when Dean holds him tight, stroking his back soothingly. 


End file.
